Confession

By Jean-Luc Bolo

Eddie has been on the alert for days. He hardly sleeps, eats little and is not intimate with his wife. Something is bothering him: he owes money to John Martek. He is identified as a low-income man with blood on his hands. He has already killed men just for a wrongful glance and he is feared and respected by all. Every night after work, Eddie scans the walls as he returns home, praying not to fall on Mr. Martek. He has yet to settle what he owes Martek and tries to avoid it as best he can but John Martek has waited long enough ... For his sake, he must act quickly. He does not intend to stay there and plans to settle this matter in "his" way!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jean-Luc Bolo
• Release date: Jan 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463485828

Jean-Luc Bolo

Former musician, Jean-Luc Bolo has always been fond of words, poetry and literature (like that of Victor Hugo, Maxime Chattam, Saint John of Persia, Aimé Césaire, Stephen King, Franck Thilliez, etc.) also beautiful rhetorics because of their sententious fibers. Tired and scalded by the disillusions of the French and English-speaking musical system, closed and viscerally endogamic due to certain conflicting, fruitless and sterile artistic relationships, he suddenly reoriented himself towards an art more lonely and less interdependent of Machiavellian and stupid people: the writting of stories. Too many recurring false notes caused him to lose something but certainly not his pen. He flew towards other artistic skies, more literary and scriptwriting. Just like music, books and movies have always lead his dreams. It is therefore not very surprising that he gradually abandoned the melody of his notes, for the musicality of his words. Now he invests more in letters with more soul. He regularly tackles the writing of stories and scenarios, generally focused on fantasy, thriller and horror, while nevertheless making some escapades towards the social dramaturgy. From his dark stories, but nevertheless imprints of lights, he hopes eventually to write his letters of nobility in the form of a literary and scriptwriting genre that he loves the most. As he often says, he wishes to explore the depths of the human soul in order to expunge its vilest instincts because man is a virus, of which he himself is the remedy. Some of his early stories are already available as ebooks on Amazon and Smashwords, but the best he says is yet to come.His favorite personal literary quote:We never turn the page of a beautiful story

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CONFESSION

Story : BOLO JEAN-LUC

English Translation: VIKTORYA RYRAK

Copyrights :000381495

November 1981.06h17pm. Parisian suburb.

The grayness of fall had depicted on the blocks of cement. On the asphalt near a dying tree, a pile of dead leaves littered the ground. Suddenly, a light gust of wind rose and dispersed them to their respective ephemeral destinies, making them flutter in the air. One of them made its way, and inexorably ended its aerial journey, by curls, on the windshield of a car parked in front of a building. It was a shiny black BMW. Inside the passenger compartment, two men had been waiting patiently.

- Are you sure it's at this time he gets back home, John? Asks one of them.

-Don’t worry man. I know all comings and goings, of this bastard. He should not be late, his acolyte said, his jaw clenched and determined, as he was taking a weapon out of the glove box. Equipped with a silencer. If he does not have the money he’s been owing me for months, or almost a year, i can ASSURE you that he won’t see any other dawn. Things will be done properly and calmly (clearing his throat) ... but surely, the old way...

- And what do you intend to do with his wife and his 3-year-old kid?

At these words, John slowly turned his face toward his partner, without saying a word, his eyes dark. He stared at him for a few moments before saying:

- I said the old way, he retorted succinctly.

His partner swallowed.

- You want to liquidate ‘em all? The ... the kid included?

- If he does not give me my dough, he’ll only get what he deserves, he said coldly, as he watched an old man walking a dog along the sidewalk: a black labrador. The latter instinctively glanced inside the vehicle, saw the two men with impassive faces who were also looking at him, and continued his way, shaking his head lightly.

6:39 p.m...

A hundred meters away, a bus had just parked at its stop, droppin’ off some travelers, before getting back to its ordinary journey. Everyone returning to their areas. One of them headed towards the building, from where the black BMW was parked. He was a pleasant-looking man; his face was emaciated and shaved, in his forties and with grizzled hair. He wore a suit and black formal shoes and a white shirt. He was sticking his head out of his gray gabardine. Judging by his behaviour, he seemed to be worried, as if he were apprehensive that something serious might happen at any moment.

- It’s him. That bastard! John grumbled seeing him about ten meters away from the vehicle.

He instinctively clasped his gun in the right pocket of his raincoat.

- That’s it. Let's go! He replied, seeing the man get closer.

The two men rushed out of the passenger compartment. John, who was both on the passenger side and the sidewalk, directly crossed